


Coup de Tete

by Crazy4Orcas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Community: be_compromised, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mentions of Blood, Smut, mentions of broken bones, unintentional violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 00:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4Orcas/pseuds/Crazy4Orcas
Summary: Clint couldn’t believe how soft her skin was, how good she smelled, how perfectly they fit and moved together.He couldn’t believe … the explosion of pain in his face as Natasha reared back and slammed her head into him.





	Coup de Tete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).



> Written for a prompt from the [be_compromised Promptathon 2018](https://be-compromised.dreamwidth.org/545175.html) from [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie) (cassiesinsanity on tumblr): Bad sex. In a moment of playful passion, Clint dumbly pins/ties Natasha to the bed/floor/wall/miscellaneous sexing surface. Natasha freaks out, breaks free and causes Clint serious injury before snapping out of it.
> 
> Is it wrong that I had kiss_me_cassie beta a fic that was written for her own prompt? Well, I did it anyway - thanks so much!

Clint groaned as Natasha sank down on him; she was hot and wet and oh so soft around his cock. She rolled her hips, pulling another groan from him. He reached up, swept her hair over one shoulder so he could run his hands down the length of her naked back, and grasped her hips as she moved on him. She looked over her shoulder at him and bit her bottom lip before giving a wicked twist of her hips. Jesus, he had to touch more of her.

He sat up and pulled her closer to him, one arm wrapped around her waist. She arched against him and made the most delicious whimper when he dipped his fingers between her thighs. He swirled them around her clit and gave it a light pinch.

“Clint!” She cried out, her voice thick, smoky and honeyed, like liquid sex. It sent a shiver through him.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured in her ear as he swirled his fingers around her clit again, firmer and faster this time. “Wanna feel you come.”

Natasha reached over and braced herself on the back of the couch, hips moving faster, rocking harder against him. He could feel her thighs tensing, her breath stuttered and caught as she chanted, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, fuck!”

She came hard around him, her body pulsing and contracting on his cock. He stilled and just savored the feel of her climaxing around and on him.

As she started to calm from the orgasm, he stroked up her stomach and caressed her breasts, flicking and teasing her nipples. She hissed then moaned his name when he nipped and sucked at the sensitive spot beneath her ear, it made her clench around him and a bolt of pleasure shot up his spine.

“Fuck, Tasha,” he growled against her skin. “Feels so good.”

Clint couldn’t believe how soft her skin was, how good she smelled, how perfectly they fit and moved together. He brushed his hand across her neck, grasped lightly and tilted her head further back so he could mouth more easily at her skin.

He couldn’t believe … the explosion of pain in his face as Natasha reared back and slammed her head into him. He couldn’t track the movement but suddenly found himself face down on the couch with his arm twisted behind his back; violent, searing pain burning in his shoulder and hand. Natasha’s knees dug into the back of one his thighs and the small of his back. A sharper, more intense pain lanced through his hand as his fingers broke. He tasted blood in his mouth and gagged on it.

“Jesus!” He choked and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Natasha, _what the fuck?_ ”

There was a moment of deafening silence and then her weight disappeared off of him. The relief in his shoulder, back, and thigh was quickly overcome by the excruciating pain in his hand and nose. He spat out another mouthful of blood and sat up, gingerly probing his nose with his good hand. Definitely broken. As were at least two of his fingers. Fuck, he was glad he was ambidextrous. As it was his bow was out for a while, he couldn’t imagine being without a dominant hand too.

He looked up and his heart sank, a hard knot of dread settling in his guts. Natasha was standing on the other side of the room, shaking. One arm was across her waist, the hand of the other rubbing at her neck. She was pale, eyes wide and glassy, and her breathing was erratic.

“Tasha?” he asked, trying to keep his voice pitched low and soothing; it was difficult with the blood running down his throat. Reflexively, he reached for his t-shirt with his right hand and hissed at the pain. Thinking better of it, he scooped up the shirt with his left hand and carefully pressed it to his face.

“Tash,” he tried again. “You okay?”

“Clint,” she said softly, half question. She blinked a couple of times and focused on him. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She took a couple of shaky steps toward him and stopped, a sort of confused look of dread on her face. She wrung her hands in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I broke your nose, didn’t I?”

He nodded and slowly waved his right hand at her. Her expression grew even more stricken and she hurried over to him, gently taking his hand in hers to examine it.

“I think you got two of ‘em.”

“I don’t know what hap-” she started and took a deep breath. He could see her shut herself off, shut herself down. “We need to get you to medical.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, although not entirely sure he shouldn’t pursue the incident. He didn’t want to give her time to stew in guilt, but knew she wouldn’t be receptive to talking about it until after he’d been seen by a medic. Another sharp stab of pain in his face made his decision for him. “Let’s just say this was a sparring accident though, huh?”

Natasha nodded sadly at him. “Sure.”

==========

Several hours, a purple cast, and a nose splint later they finally made it back to Clint’s quarters. He closed the door, locked it, and tugged her along behind him, keeping a good grip on her hand; worried she’d bolt if given half a chance.

He settled on the couch and pulled her down with him. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath, through his mouth, to center himself, to clear his head for just a moment. The painkillers he’d been given were wearing off and his face was starting to throb. But he had to do some damage control before he took another dose and slept off some of the pain.

Natasha was tense beside him. She’d been shuttered and stiff while they’d been at the clinic. She’d perfunctorily answered any questions asked of her but otherwise had been deathly silent.

He still held her hand and he lifted it to place a quick kiss to her palm. She jerked her hand away but was careful to avoid his nose.

“How can you …” she started and her voice caught. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “How can you stand to touch me like that? After what I did?”

“Tasha,” he said softly.

“No,” she interrupted. “Clint, I hurt you. I lost control and I _hurt_ you.”

“You didn’t mean …” But she didn’t let him get any further. She stood and paced across the room, wringing her hands. He took it as a good sign that she hadn’t just left, but thought he’d better nix that idea before it crossed her mind. “Please don’t leave.”

She stopped her pacing and stared at him, a flash of disbelief crossing her face. “I don’t want to … Clint, I wouldn’t leave you.”

Relief flowed through him.

“Then come back over here.”

Natasha just stared at him for several long moments. He caught the briefest glimpse of tears in her eyes before she blinked them away. She crossed back over to him and gently settled on his good side, pressing herself into him with an arm around his waist and her face buried in his neck. She was shaking and he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“I’m so sorry, Clint, so sorry.”

“I know. And I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay, we’re okay.”

They sat in silence until her shaking stopped. The throbbing in his face and hand was becoming more pronounced but Clint wanted to get one more thing aired out before he gave in and took his pain meds.

“It was your neck, right?” he asked quietly. “When I gripped your neck?”

She nodded and raised her head to look him in the eye. “I just … reacted. It was instinct.”

He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Well, let’s not do that again, huh?”

“No,” she laughed weakly, “let’s not.”

She leaned up and very, very gently kissed him. It was a tender, chaste kiss, but he put as much feeling into it as he could.

Natasha broke the kiss and gave him a little smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed, hot shot.”

“That is an excellent idea,” he said. “But I’ll warn you now, I’m in no condition for acrobatic sex, or any sex actually.”

“How about narcotics and sleep?”

“That’s more my speed,” he said as she helped him to his feet and they made their way into the bedroom. She brought him a glass of water and his meds before helping him strip out of his clothes and into a pair of pajama pants. He sat on the side of the bed and tried not to grimace as she gently washed his face.

She stripped out of her own clothes and found one of his oldest, softest t-shirts and they settled into bed; Natasha propped up against the headboard, her e-reader within reach, and Clint half laying on her, his head on her belly and his cast propped on her thighs. He could feel the meds kicking in.

“You know,” he said, voice thick, “I want you to show me that move from earlier, I couldn’t follow it. But it had to have been awesome.”

“Are you sure you want me to do that to you again?”

“Well, yeah, but without the head-butting and finger-breaking. You know I love it when you manhandle me.” He paused. “You did have an advantage you know; I was, admittedly, pretty damn distracted at the time. You’re gorgeous when you come and your skin is so soft.”

She laughed softly and rubbed his back. “You’re rambling.”

“Hhhmmm,” he mumbled. “Still wanna see that move.”

“When you’re not stoned,” she agreed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, voice petering out as the drugs started to pull him under. “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“It was a _good_ one too,” she said quietly and carded her hand through his hair, scratching lightly behind his ear.

Clint mustered as smug a tone as he could, “’Course it was. I don’t miss.”

The last thing he heard was Natasha’s soft chuckle.


End file.
